Always There
by Joey51
Summary: Tag to the episode 'Falling'.


There was some sort of mix up... I suppose these things can happen when you update two stories in different forums at the same time. It's all straightened out now, and I apologize for any inconvenience.

-Joey

A/N - This is a tag to the episode 'Falling'. I know, I'm only about two and a half years late.

This is an introspective, one-shot that was written solely for faithinFaith, but I thought I'd share with the general population. Shippers, take what you want out of it, but I feel obligated to let it be known that any shipping thoughts are merely imagined. This fic is intended to be purely platonic, but there are some unavoidable parallels in love and partnership.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Always There

Faith leaned her palms against the cold door of her apartment, nervously waiting for the click of closure. The latching, though normally quiet and unnoticed, was deafening in the empty silence of the night. The floor creaked loudly beneath her barely shifting weight and her own sigh sounded like a windstorm, all while her partners excruciating sobs continued to echo in her head.

She'd barely recognized the man that had just broken down on her shoulder. That man was broken. That man was shattered. That man was not her partner. That wasn't Bosco.

She'd never been at a loss for words with him. Whether it be, 'shut up' or 'let me handle it', there was always something to say. On this night, Faith had been all but speechless. She'd felt guilty as the awkwardness crept through her body when he'd started to break. Her own kids had cried in her arms countless times and not once had she felt uncomfortable or out of her element. But Bosco... Bosco wasn't supposed to be that way. He'd made sure of it. She'd never seen him crumble. She'd never seen him weak - he'd never looked so small.

So she stood immobile, facing the blank door, waiting for some answers to her unspoken questions.

"Faith?"

She abruptly brushed her hair out of her eyes, along with a few stray tears that she'd been unaware she was crying. Turning, she met Fred's eyes. His face was unreadable, his features a mixture of fear and confusion. Faith only hoped he wouldn't ask questions that she couldn't imagine finding the answers to when she, herself, was so utterly lost.

"Bosco… did he leave?"

She nodded, clearing her throat and suppressing her raging emotions. Upon processing Fred's question, fear radiated through her chest, settling in an uneasy lump in her stomach. At that point, she realized that she probably shouldn't have let Bosco go. He had no one else and that's why she had to be there. That's why she was always there.

"He was… I mean… he's okay, right?"

Fred cared. Faith knew he cared. He didn't care because he wanted to, he cared because as much as he tried to fight it and deny it and twist it around into something completely irrational, Bosco was a part of his wife. His wife was a part of his family, and he cared deeply for his family. Therefore, a part of him cared for Bosco, too. He was a piece of the puzzle; he came with the package.

"I don't know," Faith whispered under her breath. She could hear the worry in her breathless answer and it only served to compound the building fear in her gut. She prayed he was okay. The tear-soaked fabric on her shoulder told her otherwise. Those tears weren't cried by someone who was okay.

Fred took a few tentative steps toward his wife; Faith subconsciously made the decision to reciprocate the action. As much as Bosco counted on her to make things better, she counted on Fred. Perhaps it wasn't fair to her husband to bear that burden, but that was what they were used to. She knew Fred would always be there.

His large, warm hands found their way down Faith's shoulders and linked behind her back. "I know you want to help him," he started in a muted whisper as he placed his chin the top of her head, "but Bosco needs to help himself."

Faith knew it was true, but that didn't work into their equation - their partnership. This was her domain. She _fixed_ things. She was relied on, _counted on_, to make things better. Bosco couldn't help himself. Not now. That was Faith's job. She would always be there.

"You're not mad?" Even to her own ears, the words sounded juvenile and unsure. It was her turn to be needy. She needed Fred's support like Bosco had needed hers only moments ago.

"Let's just eat cake, okay?"

Faith's fear for Bosco dissipated for a second and she allowed herself to smile into her husband's cotton shirt. Sure, he was mad, and he was frustrated, but he was still there. She took solace in knowing that he'd always be there.

……………………………….

Bosco nervously tucked his hands up into his sleeves, fumbling with the un-hemmed edge of the rough fabric as he methodically made his way down what seemed like an endless flight of stairs. He was cold, and scared - a disturbing combination of sensations that he hadn't felt since he was young and defenseless. It bothered him. It made him angry. He couldn't be defenseless anymore; it just wasn't an option.

When he'd walked up to Faith's apartment earlier, he'd had it all planned out. He would lead her into it - drop hints that would make her ask the right questions, dismissing all of her accurate guesses with an undeniable, cocky confidence that he'd adopted long ago. She would be right, but he would tell her otherwise, and they would talk without talking. That was the way it worked between them. It was all between the lines.

But something had gone wrong. Something was said or done along the way that derailed his train of denial. He had to face the truth. He wasn't all right. Things hadn't been all right for quite some time. For the first time, he had come face to face with the buried truths of his life. He was revealing his fears, and Faith was there.

The entire time he'd felt completely separated. It was like he was standing in the corner of the room, watching himself in disgust, but he couldn't find the power within to make it all stop. She had to know. He hated it, but she had to know.

When he'd starting to break, a part of him had expected her to leave. A part of him had wanted her to slap him and tell him to grow up. A part of him had wanted her to tell him he was overreacting - that that was the hand he was dealt, so deal with it.

She didn't.

She did none of those things he had always associated with revealing his emotions. All of his learned behaviors and expectations of human nature were thrown out the window. She cared. She understood something that she realized she could never fully understand. He had faced his hell, and Faith was there.

Bosco was slipping. He had been slipping for far too long. After everything, all of the hurt, the pain, the horror he'd been forced to face, the last thing he'd wanted to do was fall like he did. He was always under the impression that what doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger. But after all the turmoil, his strength was waning, and he was weaker than he could ever accept. He'd fallen, and Faith had been there.

His chest ached, and he forced himself to believe that the pain was all physical. Physical was something he could deal with. He could see, feel and manipulate physical things; emotional issues were far too complex.

So when he felt his entire body shaking in the wake of his reveal, he was quick to play it off. Bosco's emotions never won. Again, he was vainly trying to convincing himself.

Unbeknown to many, Bosco was his own worst critic. When he made a mistake, he'd punish himself harshly. When Swersky would yell at him, Bosco would yell louder. But there were some things about his life that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to fix them, and it was tearing him apart inside.

He'd gone to Faith knowing that she was as much a piece of his life as he was. If he ever had a problem that he couldn't physically fix, Faith could be counted on for the fine tuning. That was how they worked - that was how they'd always worked. He was the brawn and she was the brains. That was easy. That was their partnership. But on this night, when Bosco had done everything within his physical power to cover, hide, and ignore all that had gone wrong, and failed miserably, he knew he needed Faith. Faith could figure this out. Faith might even be able to fix it. Faith was always there.

But Faith hadn't fixed it. The one person he could always count on to make things 'better', hadn't fixed whatever was broken. He'd even considered accepting that he was broken beyond repair. Maybe this time, he'd gone too far - fallen too hard.

Even now, even after his partner had picked him up and brushed him off, he felt like he was walking on butter - the heat from his own body melting away the very foundation on which he was trying to stand. The harder he tried and the more he struggled, the deeper he sank. The high-paced friction of his hostile life was burning away his ground. He couldn't stand. There was nothing left.

Bosco reached the bottom of the stairs and bee-lined for the door. The previous coldness that occupied his body had been replaced by a sweeping wave of heat. It was stifling and he couldn't breathe. He needed to get out.

He pushed open the door with more force than was necessary and thrust his body out into the crisp night air. The coolness wrapped around him like a blanket, and relief flooded his mind. He couldn't struggle anymore. He just wanted life's simple tasks to be easy again. Thinking, walking, _breathing._

He took a few steps down the sidewalk toward his car, but stopped before he could get too far. He didn't want to drive. That would require thought. Focus. Two things he couldn't muster. Not after this day.

So, he leaned back against the wall of Faith's apartment, savoring every breath of fresh air as it entered his strained lungs.

An odd sense of relief tingled in his brain. The things he'd seen and done and been through… they'd haunt him forever; that, he was sure of. But there was one more sure thing, he had a partner. When he'd been helpless in her arms, even if just for a split second, the ground stopped melting, his brain stopped spinning, and despite his choking revelations, things were almost all right.

Bosco knew that even if he was to leave her behind, insult her, betray her, _hurt _her, she'd still uphold her end of the bargain. Even if she couldn't fix him, she'd always be there. Faith was always there.


End file.
